The underwear bit. No, I’m not a model (though technically I have modeled hair and in a catalog for a big kayak company). When I got back from the cabin on Saturday there was a letter from the NYPD office stating that I had to get in for my medical exam this Saturday at 6:30 am. For the sake of whining, I need to point out that I’m closing the cafe the night before. I closed tonight as well, and am posting this at 1:30 after just getting home. Meaning that I will have to leave directly from closing tomorrow night to get up there.
I did a bit of research as to what this medical exam entails. Check hearing, fine. Check eyesight, fine. Check blood pressure, fine. Have a group physical in skivvies, not fine. Basically they separate by gender, then have everyone strip to Adam and Eve fashion before doing weird stretches. Oh, and I have to pay them money to get fingerprinted. Honestly, why am I going for this profession?
On side notes, I did have a few weird things happen today. As I was sitting on the train going to work today, this guy got on at one of the stops, smiled at me, then sat in the seat across the aisle from me. He’s sorta doing this sidelong glance thing at me, I look back over and he blushes. It’s absolutely adorable. We repeat this about thirty thousand times until getting off at the same stop, and then we both walk up the same stairwell. We’re walking along, still doing the staring thing. Then I look down, look back up, and he’s gone. I’m sort of surprised because he had been right next to me a moment before, and I turn around and he’s halfway down the block, laughing at my confusion. It was absolutely one of the sweetest things that’s happened in awhile.
Then, after a guy vomited all over the cafe (yeah, he ran in from the bar next door, puked, laughed, ran out), a guy and a girl came in. We get a lot of dates in there, so I figured it was just another one of them. I chatted with them for a bit while getting their order together, they ate, and then they left. Normal. Then the girl walks back in, sort of embarrassed. She tells me that the guy she was with couldn’t stop talking about me, that he wanted to talk to me but was afraid (really?) so he asked if she could come in for my number. I was a little put off- I mean, isn’t he supposed to be the one that asks for it? I told her that he needs to get the nerve to ask for it himself if he wants it, she laughed and asked when I was working next. We’ll see if anything happens of if that guy stays too scared.